Mending the Future
by Jade Hunter
Summary: After the events of Crush, Drusilla wakes up in her bed and makes plans to change things. SpikeDrusilla, AngelusDarla. (ON HOLD)
1. To Wake from Dreams

****

Title: Mending the Future

Author: Jade Hunter

Disclaimer: None of the characters or the properties of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ belong to me.

A.N: What can I say? I'm on a Spike/Drusilla kick, and it doesn't seem like it's gonna stop any time soon. This starts towards the end of _Crush_, but then moves…ah, well, you'll see.

"talking"

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thoughts

emphasis

**__**

flashback

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There was a gap between them that no bridge could be built.

Drusilla noticed it now, for the very first time, because the bridge was physical as well as spiritual, plain for her to see.

Spike, her Spike, her William, stood across the room from her, his eyes sad and wary as they gazed at her, his chest heaving, lungs drawing in air they did not need. Next to him, panting for breath, was the Slayer.

Absently, she placed a hand on her cheek, stunned by the realization – _Spike attacked me…to save the Slayer._

Never, in all their days together, had Spike done much more than raise his voice with her, even when she had turned to the chaos demon in anger at his betrayal of her, of Angelus, of what vampires stood for. True, he had caused her little damage, but it was her heart that pained her now. She wanted to scream, to cry, to have a fit, and to have him come and hold her and rock her as he had done when she was ill – but she knew he wouldn't.

"Poor Spike," she whispered, gazing at him with new eyes. "So lost." 

She saw it, clearly, and wondered how she could have missed it before, the knowledge that her boy was no more. In place of him was a new creature, yearning to be a man. Her Spike would never have wanted to be a human again, not for anyone, and her Spike would never have loved a Slayer.

Tears welled up, but Drusilla fought them off.

"Even I can't help you now," she said mournfully.

With that, she turned her back on him.

And she walked away.

*****

Her eyes shot open, her chest working to take in heaving breaths.

Drusilla began to wail her anguish to the stars.

The door slammed open, and a familiar figure rushed in, his face in demon visage, his feral eyes wild with concern, black duster flapping behind him.

"Dru, what is it?" he asked after a moment, not seeing anything that could have caused her the pain she had been expressing only a second earlier. He came to her, reaching out to her, "What's wrong, love?"

She stared at him from her laying position on the bed.

"Spike?" she managed to ask, and was surprised to find that her voice was weak.

A hand came up to brush some of her hair away from her face, another familiar gesture, and Spike gazed down at her with tenderness.

"Yeah, poodle?"

Searching his eyes, his expression, Drusilla struggled to sit up, and was baffled by how much energy it was taking her. Immediately, Spike helped her up, his strong arms coming around her. She watched him as he lifted her effortlessly into a sitting position, and somehow knew…

…this was her boy.

She gazed at him wonderingly, "What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, shooting her a puzzled but affectionate glance. "I'm taking care of you, love."

"No," she shook her head, weakly. "No. My Spike left me. Left me for the Slayer."

He started. "What're you talking about, baby? I've been here the whole time – never left you, never will, especially not for some Slayer. Besides, the only Slayer I know about is in California, in LA."

"Lost," she whimpered. "So lost, my boy, gone into the light, and I cannot help him."

Although he didn't understand what Drusilla was muttering about – and that alone surprised him a bit, since after over a century together, he had gotten to be quite talented at understanding his dark goddess and her desires – Spike knew that she was upset. He did the only thing he could; he gathered her up in his arms and began to rock her back and forth.

"I'm here, pet," he whispered. "I'm here, don't worry. Must have been a nightmare, that's all."

Disturbed as he was that she had dreamt of him leaving her, for some of her dreams were visions, Spike couldn't help but be a bit pleased that she had been so frightened at the prospect of being without him. There were moments of remembered insecurity when he was afraid that Drusilla did not love him, and it was times like these that her love – that their love – was plain.

The encompassing comfort of Spike's embrace did much to reassure the female vampire, but she still could not help but feel lost herself. She put her hand to her cheek again. 

"Spike – he attacked me, to save the Slayer," she murmured wearily, tired out by her grief.

"I would never raise a hand against you, pet," Spike claimed vehemently. "You know that, don't you, love?"

Drusilla stared up at him, her eyes – _lovely eyes, can't help but be drawn to them,_ he thought, a bit possessively – becoming clearer.

"Yes. Yes, I see you now, my boy," she said. "My William, my darling."

"Always," he replied, planting a gently kiss on the inside of her wrist.

She smiled, tiredly, and he recognized the signs of her weariness. Lifting her again, he gently slid her into her former laying position, then lay down next to her, his arms still around her. Normally, she would lie still, but this time, she surprised him by putting her own arms around him and burrowing herself nearer to him. Pleased, Spike held her closer, and was answered with the tightening of her own arms.

I see now, she thought to herself, tucking her head under Spike's chin. _Yes. That was all a dream, nothing more._ Her eyes darkened. _But also a vision, from the stars._

She breathed in the familiar scent of Spike, of her Spike, and sighed in contentment.

No worries, she told the stars, the moon, and Miss Edith. _I know what must be done._

Plans whirled inside the insane vampire's mind as she closed her eyes.

To her Sight, the future was an open book, but it had never taken her so far into the future before. Drusilla knew that it was a warning. Do things as they had been done, and Spike would be taken away from her, just as he had been in the vision.

She would fix it.

I know.

Fix everything.

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~Jade Hunter~


	2. Plans for Traveling

****

Title: Mending the Future

Author: Jade Hunter

Disclaimer: None of the characters or the properties of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ belong to me.

A.N: I'm trying to continue all the fics that are supposed to be more than one-shots, but I'm having trouble because I have so many new ideas in my head, lol. Oy vay.

"talking"

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thoughts

emphasis

**__**

flashback

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Drusilla opened her eyes dreamily. She knew what she wanted. She wanted to make things right, so that they wouldn't turn out like in her vision of the future.

Not going to Sunnydale wouldn't solve things. Her cure lay on the Hellmouth, flowing through the veins of her Sire. 

However, if they waited a year and went, things would stay the same. Angelus would return, and wish to end the world. She would have to choose between Angelus and Spike, and though she loved Spike, she was a vampire, and could never disobey her Sire.

Deep inside, Drusilla knew the reason Angelus had tried to awaken Acathla. He had been unhappy, because he had no companion, no Grandmum to keep him company.

For everything to be right again, Grandmum was needed.

__

But he kills her, my Angel does, she thought, pensively. _There's only one way._

"Spike?"

He propped his head up and looked down at her. "Yeah, love?"

"I want us to be a family again, my William," she told him, remembering her words to the Spike in the future.

His gaze narrowed. "A family?" he asked, warily.

"Mmm," she answered, turning her head slightly to look at him.

"I hope you're not talking about Angel, pet," he said, his voice tense. "He's the enemy now."

Spike was surprised when she gazed directly at him, her eyes meeting his. Even more surprising was that she was completely focused, her eyes clear and lucid.

"I know, my pet," she smiled, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek. "But he doesn't have to be."

Spike continued to eye her.

"Grandmum will see to it," she explained, excited. "Daddy will come back, and we'll all be together again."

"Darla?" Spike asked, his brow furrowing. "What does she have to do with this?"

She seemed to drift off, and her voice became weak again, recalling something. "Daddy can return on his own, my Spike," she sighed. "But before he does, he will do something he will regret. He won't be happy, and he will want to make us unhappy, too."

He scowled. "So why the hell are we bothering with him, then?" he demanded.

Her gaze was reproachful, and he was immediately sorry for raising his voice at her. "Grandmum will make sure he's happy."

As much as Spike hated the thought of Angel, having a soul and all that disgusting rot, Spike remembered their time with Angelus and Darla with a bit of fondness, despite some of the head butting that went on between the two male vampires. It was all in good fun, most of the time, and they had always laughed it off, because they knew that they were a family, through good times and bad.

Then Angelus had become Angel, feeding on rats while brooding, and had abandoned them. Darla had gone back to her Sire, the Master, soon afterwards, and Drusilla and Spike had been alone.

Although Spike relished the long years he and his Black Goddess spent together, a part of him still missed the days when the four of them wreaked havoc on the lands.

It was that part that made him ask, "Well, what do we need to do, then?"

The thrilled smile Drusilla sent his way made it all worth while.

"We must go to Sunnydale," she told him, excited that her boy wanted the family back as well. "To the Hellmouth."

"Now, love? You're still weak, not fit for traveling," he protested, softly.

Drusilla shook her head. Despite it having been a few months since she had been attacked, they had stayed in Prague, because Spike wanted to get her well before leaving. His theory was that since the people of Prague had done this to her, their blood would make her better again. In her vision, it had taken him a year to realize that it wouldn't work. That wouldn't work out this time, because if they waited a bit longer, Drusilla knew that Angel would stake Darla.

Right now, they still had time to make things right.

"No, my darling," she said. "If we go now, we'll make it in time."

__

In time for what? Spike began to ask, but held his tongue as he remembered what she'd said before. 

"In time to stop Angel from doing something Angelus'll regret?" he ventured a guess.

Drusilla nodded, pleased with her Childe's intelligence and quick wit.

He frowned, "What's so important that Angelus would regret it?" Spike knew his Grandsire well, and doubted the vampire would ever regret anything.

She beckoned him closer, and he obligingly did so.

"Angel loves the Slayer," she whispered in his ear, as if telling a secret that she'd promised to keep.

Spike recoiled in disgust from the very thought. "What?" 

His lip curled, and a shudder racked his body as he imagined his souled Grandsire, drooling over someone who killed their kind. _Hasn't he any shred of dignity at all?_

"Yes," Dru nodded. "And Grandmum will find out, and she won't like it a bit."

"I doubt she would," Spike answered with a snort.

"She'll go after the Slayer, try and trick her, and will try and make Angel kill the girl. But," Dru held up a finger in warning, "the Slayer loves Angel, too, you see."

He almost choked on the horror that rose in him. _What kind of Slayer falls for a vampire?_

"So Grandmum has to do the killing all by her lonesome," Drusilla continued. "All alone, and she hates it, and he'll be the one to do it, she doesn't believe he would, but he will, for the Slayer, and – " here, Drusilla made an exploding motion with her hands, "gone."

Spike's mind raced to decode what his Sire was telling him. The conclusions he reached was too horrific to comprehend, something he could not believe that his Grandsire would do – soul or no soul. But Drusilla's visions were never wrong. Ever.

"He'll kill Darla? He'll kill his own bloody Sire?" he breathed out, trying to understand what could drive a vampire to turn on their Sire. Such a thing was not even forbidden because it had never been considered before, never happened before. No vampire would ever think of harming the one that had given them the gift of eternity.

"All for the Slayer," she repeated, then moaned in distress. "The Slayer, that wicked girl, taking Daddy, taking my boy, too! But I won't let her, I won't, Spike, she can't have you!"

Immediately, Spike put aside his shock and went to comfort his princess. Disturbed as he was that she talked about the Slayer taking him like she 'took' Angel – _There's no bleedin way I'm gonna fall for the Slayer,_ he scowled mentally,_ No bloody way in hell._ – he put that aside.

"Don't worry, baby," he crooned, enfolding her in his arms. "Bloody right, she won't have me, you won't let her, I know."

Drusilla stopped her moaning, letting it subside into whimpers as she was comforted by Spike.

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and said earnestly, "Tell you what, pet. If you promise to eat right properly, I'll see how fast I can get us to Sunnyhell, hmm?"

"To save Grandmum and Daddy?" she responded eagerly. "And to punish the wicked Slayer?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I promise. I'll rip her throat out, and let you feast on her blood."

"Oooh, chop her to pieces, kill her for princess?" Drusilla clapped her hands in delight.

"And smash her bones to bits," Spike promised.

Sighing in happiness, Drusilla wound her arms around Spike's neck, nuzzling into him. "My Spike, so good to me."

She gazed up at him, her eyes bright.

"You'll help me make things right, won't you?" she asked.

He nodded. "I promise, pet. But you need to save your strength."

"Don't worry," she told him, reaching for his hand. "I'll be strong again soon, you'll see."

For a moment, Spike let his despair show. "How?" he asked, brokenly. "No matter how much you feed…you're just not getting any stronger."

She smiled gently. "My cure lies in the Hellmouth, my sweet."

It was enough for Spike. He didn't know how they would cure Drusilla, he didn't know what he had to do. All he knew was that he would go to the ends of the Earth for that cure, and if it lay in Sunnydale – so be it.

"To the Hellmouth it is," he said, his eyes burning with determination.

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~Jade Hunter~


	3. Arrival at the Hellmouth

****

Title: Mending the Future

Author: Jade Hunter

Disclaimer: None of the characters or the properties of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ belong to me.

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Tenko: First, thanks for reviewing. Secondly, I used to be a sometimes-B/S fan, though I always preferred S/Dru, but I stopped being one after Buffy became so self-absorbed in Season 4. After the events of Season 6, I totally abandoned the ship, because although nothing excuses Spike's attempted rape – and I mean nothing – one cannot help but understand why he did it. Anyway, I'd like to say I agree, Drusilla is the most underrated character. Before, it was Darla, but after her return to Angel and her sacrifice,…it's Dru now. I've always loved her and Spike, the whole Sid and Nancy thing, way back from Season 2, and I still love it now, maybe more than ever since we saw more into them in _Fool For Love_ and _Crush_. I stopped being an avid fan of the show after they neutered Spike, because I loved him as the Big Bad, and I was horrified when they gave him a soul and took away his duster. About the whole Spike and Angel thing, I think Spike now hates Angel with every part of his being – thus the whole torturing thing for the Gem. However, back in Season 2 in _School Hard_, when he first saw Angel, he punched him, called him a traitor, and seemed truly broken up about it – plus he called Angel his Yoda. And when Angelus returned, he was as happy as Dru, ecstatic, almost, and in _Becoming 2_, Angelus said that he liked Spike watching his back because it was like 'old times'. It was after Spike had to tolerate Angelus stealing Drusilla that he began to hate him for real. And I have my own theory about why Angelus acted that way, which you can read in my one-shot fic _For Our Sake_. About Connor…well, we'll see, but probably not. I don't exactly see Angelus letting Darla kill herself for a human baby.

"talking"

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thoughts

emphasis

**__**

flashback

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It was quiet, at least, to the average person.

No one but a handful of people knew of the creatures that roamed in the shadows of Sunnydale, the creatures that preyed on humans.

Although the death toll in their town was unusually high, most people only saw the mundane routines of their lives, not what went on in the dark.

They were blind.

And yet, for some unexplainable reason, most of the older townies tended to avoid going anywhere in the dark. It was mostly teenagers, eager to prove their brazenness to their friends, who wandered into danger zones and fell victim to the vampires, to the demons.

It was a school night, however, and so even the teenagers were lacking.

There was no one around to notice what happened next – no one who would care.

A classic 1958 Dodge DeSoto FireFlite crashed through the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign, screeching to a halt.

The driver's door opened, and Spike stepped out. Strolling over to the curb, he took out a cigarette and lit it, taking in a deep breath.

"Home, sweet home," he smirked.

Inside the DeSoto, her head resting on the front passenger seat, Drusilla met his gaze – and smiled.

*****

"Zachary didn't return from the hunt last night."

Darla dropped her eyes at the mention of one of the older vampires – not as old as she was, and certainly not a Master Vampire, but older than most. She didn't need any guesses on what had happened to him.

"The Slayer," she hissed.

"Zachary was strong, and he was careful. And still the Slayer takes him…as she has taken so many of my family," the Master commented. The shaky breath he took to soothe his temper belied his calm exterior, "It wears thin." Turning to the Anointed One, he asked, "Collin, what would you do about it?"

Looking up briefly from his act of tossing pebbles into the pool of water before him, the young boy's face remained impassive as he replied, "I'd annihilate her."

The Master inhaled slowly, for patience, "Out of the mouths of babes…"

Darla was about to speak when another voice, rough and accented, interrupted her.

"Yeah, they do tend to say the strangest things, don't they?" 

Spike stepped farther into the cavern, in full game face, arching his scarred eyebrow at the state the Master was living in, the conditions Darla lived in. For as long as he had known his Great-Grandsire, she had always desired the best things – the finest clothes, the finest transportation, the finest living conditions – and her new life in caves amused him.

"That is, 'fore I eat 'em," he grinned, his expression feral. "Normally, I'd go for the ones that fight back, get the blood all pumping, but sometimes, you just want the delicacies."

Darla stepped forward, shocked.

"Spike," she said.

The Master turned his head sharply to his favorite Childe, then rested his gaze on the intruder, a spark of recognition in his eyes. He had never met the vampire personally, but when Darla had returned to his fold, she had told him a bit of her adventures.

He extended a hand in gracious welcome as Collin stood up. "Ah, Spike," he smiled. "I have heard much about you and your exploits from Darla here."

Spike glanced at the blonde, and she smiled slightly.

"Killed a Slayer when you were scant twenty years old," the Master stated, moving to sit on his throne. "Quite impressive."

"I don't like to brag," Spike shrugged. A grin split his face a second later, and he laughed, "Who am I kidding? I love to brag!"

He jumped over the slope, landing easily on the lower level.

"I killed a second Slayer," he began, and smiled when he saw that he had an audience; the Master leaned forward, clearly wanting to hear the tale. "Back in New York, on the subway, in '77. She was a hell of a fighter – the first one, she was all business, but this one…"

Spike trailed off as he sensed something. The others in the cavern, too, sensed the approach of another vampire. They remained relaxed as they saw Spike's game face melt away, his expression becoming tender, a stark contrast to the one who had been recounting a kill just a moment ago.

A whisper of soft cloth, and a dark-haired female vampire, clad entirely in white, emerged from the entrance to the cavern, her expression distant but pleased.

"Drusilla," Darla greeted, and the Master tilted his head, recognizing the name. Collin simply continued to observe the proceedings, his expression blank.

The vacant expression fled Drusilla's face as she smiled slightly, tiredly, "Hello, Grandmother."

Darla had long given up on reprimanding the insane vampire for calling her that, and so chose to overlook it, despite the amused glance the Master gave her. Instead, she noticed the unusual pallor of the vampire's skin – several shades more pale than a vampire should be – and how truly out of it the younger female seemed to be. Drusilla had always been off in her own world, but this was different, it was as if the vampire was forcing herself to pay attention, to move, as if besieged by some disease.

"What's wrong with her?" she asked, glancing at Spike.

Drusilla stepped closer, and Spike immediately moved to assist her down the slope.

"A bloody mob in Prague, that's what's wrong with her," he spat out, anger on his face. "Paid for it with blood, they did, their own blood, flowing down the streets in red rivers…"

A pale hand came up to his cheek, and Spike bit his tongue as Drusilla caressed his face.

"Shh," she said, and Darla noticed that her voice was weaker as well. "All in the past, my William."

The Master studied her; "You would be the vampire with the Sight?"

Drusilla faced the Master, dropping as best she could into a curtsey, her eyes bright. "The stars speak to me," she answered. "And the moon tells naught but the truth, and Miss Edith has been a bad girl today."

Spike smiled fondly down at his kitten, and Darla simply nodded, amused. She had forgotten what fun being around the insane vampire was like, although she clearly remembered the babbling words and childish antics.

A beat.

Collin stared.

The Master leaned back in his throne, sighing.

"Do you like daisies, hmm?" Drusilla asked, turning to the Anointed One. "I plant them, but they always die." Her voice turned melancholy. "Everything I put in the ground withers and dies." She seemed to fold into herself, her expression crumbling as she called out, "Spike?"

He came up behind her.

"I'm cold," she told him, her voice desperate and teary. It was supposed to be impossible for vampires to be affected by cold that much, even she knew it, and her state angered and frustrated her.

Not even missing a beat, Spike immediately took off his treasured duster, wrapping it securely around his princess.

"I've got you," he whispered.

She leaned in close to him, smiling, "I'm a princess."

He smiled, "That's what you are."

Drusilla pricked his flesh with her fingernail, dragging down to create a scratch. Moving closer to him, she stretched to lick the blood that welled up. She pulled her head back, just a little, and Spike moved in as if to kiss her. They hovered, just for a moment, their lips a millimeter away from each other, before they touched foreheads, turning their heads in complete synchronization to look at their audience.

"Dru and me," Spike said, a small smirk on his face. "We're moving in."

The Master exchanged glanced with Darla and Collin.

"Well, not in here," Spike continued, glancing around. He separated from Drusilla, walking around in a small circle to view the digs. "I couldn't stand for two seconds to live in a place like this. We'll find somewhere else to hole up, won't we, love?"

He turned to Dru, who smiled in response. He smiled back, then faced the Master expectantly.

The Master sighed, his expression that of great tolerance with a hint of amusement. "I can see that the blood of your Grandsire flows strongly in your veins," he said, wryly, remembering the young stallion that had scoffed at the thought of living in the sewers.

Spike growled. "I'd appreciate it," he forced out, knowing the Master was old and powerful, more than he could probably imagine. He might like a good fight, but he didn't have a death wish. "If no one mentioned my Grandsire in my presence. I just came here for a bit of a family reunion, and to give Dru a chance to recover."

"That would be a problem," the Master commented.

Not understanding, Spike narrowed his eyes.

Darla smiled. "Didn't you know? The Slayer is here."

Spike twisted his head to look at Drusilla, who nodded. His brow furrowed as the wheels in his head turned.

"I thought she was in LA. But if the Slayer's here," Spike said slowly, "then that means that Angel is here as well."

"How did you know that?" Darla demanded, then glanced at Drusilla, who tilted her head to look at her. "Nevermind."

Spike shrugged, then smiled, reaching out to drape an arm across his Black Goddess, "Yeah, Dru and her visions, you know? Plus, the whole demon community's been talking about it, how a vampire is killing his own kind and all that rot. Disgusting, a bloke can't even drink in peace without someone telling him his Grandsire's a traitor."

"If you didn't come here to help us with the Slayer and Angel, why are you here?" The Master asked, curious.

"See, here's the thing. Dru's sick. And no matter how much she feeds, she's not getting any better," Spike explained, his playful demeanor gone, replaced with a seriousness that shocked Darla.

She glanced at the passive Drusilla, and frowned. "How bad?"

"She's dying," Spike replied, bluntly, his eyes shining with pain at the mere thought of it. "Don't know how much time she has left."

The Master tapped a clawed finger on his chin. "Again, I will ask, why are you here?"

"Dru had a vision," Spike answered, gritting his teeth in anger at the uncaring manner the Master had adopted. "There's a cure."

"A cure?" Darla repeated, somewhat relieved, much to her chagrin.

Spike nodded. "It's here, in Sunnydale. We came to find it."

Darla turned to the Master; fond as she was, in her own way, of the two vampires, her Sire was still the Master of Sunnydale. His word was law here.

"I will make a deal with you," the Master smiled. "You've killed two Slayers. Make it three, and we will help you find that cure."

Grinning, Spike's eyes flashed gold as he exchanged a look with Drusilla.

"You've got a deal, mate."

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~Jade Hunter~


End file.
